


Phone Calls and Second Chances

by Morgane (smilla840)



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, Hurt Hotch, M/M, Set after Gideon leaves, now AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-15
Updated: 2012-07-15
Packaged: 2017-11-10 01:02:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/460503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilla840/pseuds/Morgane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gideon’s gone. Haley wants a divorce. Hotch deals – or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phone Calls and Second Chances

When Gideon doesn’t answer his phone, at first Hotch thinks the man just wants some peace and quiet. So he keeps the vague anxiety in check and attributes his uneasiness to the transfer Haley wants him to take – that, and not being able to talk to Gideon about it, because the man isn’t answering his phone.

He grows worried as days pass and Gideon doesn’t call him back and doesn’t show up for work. So he leaves messages after messages until the voice mail is full and tries not to think about the fact that he is probably destroying what’s left of his marriage by taking yet another BAU case. But they need him, and maybe it’s wrong that he puts his job before his own wife, but if she saw what he sees every day she’d understand.

She doesn’t, and he comes back from Milwaukee to an empty house. It’s hardly a surprise but it still hits him hard – his marriage may have been over a long time ago but it’s his son who keeps him going. Jack is the one bright thing in his life, the one thing that he looks forward to when he gets home from a trying case, and she took that away. 

So he sits down heavily on the couch and fumbles with his phone. He needs to talk to a friend, to someone who knows what it’s like to lose his family to his job. Needs to talk to Jason, damn it, but all he gets is voice mail and he hangs up quietly before throwing the phone against the wall. It breaks and lands on the floor with a gratifying _‘thud’_ but the satisfaction doesn’t last. So Hotch buries his face in his hands and focuses on breathing.

The next day he shows up at work as if nothing had happened, with a brand new phone in his pocket, and Reid is waiting for him, wide-eyed and full of nervous energy.

Gideon’s gone.

 

It takes a few days for the shock to fade, days spent in a thick fog, and retrospectively Hotch is glad they didn’t get a new case just then. Next is the anger, chasing the fog away, and he welcomes it with open arms. Oh, he is angry. Because Gideon just… left! Without saying a word! And no, that letter doesn’t count. It was addressed to _Reid_ , damn it. What about _him_? Gideon is supposed to be his friend! And Hotch needs his friend right now, because when Haley left his first thought was that at least he still had the team – still had Jason. Maybe that’s selfish, but Aaron hasn’t had a lot of persons in his life he could rely on completely. And now his wife’s left him and his best friend’s left him, and whom does it leave him with? No one.

Somewhere beneath the anger and the betrayal and the shock, there is guilt. He had thought Jason just needed some time, thought he would bounce back, but he hadn’t. And all Hotch can think about is that he should have seen it, should have done _something_. It’s too late now.

It all gets mixed up in his head, Haley leaving and Gideon leaving, until he isn’t sure what he is supposed to feel anymore. And since he’s got no one to talk it through with, he does what he did before Gideon came around, before he learned to open up to someone. He locks it away. 

It’s surprisingly easy to fall back into old habits.

 

He still calls Gideon, once a week like clockwork, hoping the man will answer. It’s his penance, and it’s his hope that someday he will get his friend back. But Gideon never answers and Hotch has stopped leaving messages.

Gideon clearly doesn’t want to talk to him – doesn’t want to talk to anyone. 

What else is there to say?

\---

Hotch calls him every Sunday. He is the only one who still bothers now, months after Gideon left without so much as a goodbye, and Gideon is grateful for his friend’s stubbornness. It’s the only reason he keeps his phone fully charged these days – for these late Sunday-night calls when his phone rings in the too-quiet room and he sees Hotch’s name flashing on the screen. He finds it oddly comforting, to know that Hotch still cares.

Then the ringing stops as the call goes to voice mail, but Gideon already knows there will be no message. There never is anymore.

Oh, at first there had been. From about everyone on the team. Hotch and Reid, mostly, and Gideon had deleted them all without listening to a single one. And slowly the calls had dwindled down to this, a call from Hotch on Sundays.

Some weeks the temptation to pick up is strong, and he longs for a conversation with someone who knows him inside out and doesn’t need words to understand, but he isn’t ready. Not yet, but soon – hopefully.

Once the phone doesn’t ring and he is on edge for days, thinking something’s happened – or worse, that Hotch has given up on him. He tries to rationalize it – it’s probably just a case, after all the BAU is always busy. It’s a wonder it hasn’t happened before, really – but it doesn’t help any, and Gideon doesn’t feel like himself until his phone finally does ring three days later and the familiar number flashes on the screen. And they fall back into the same routine.

Then one day, his phone rings but it’s not Hotch’s number on the screen. He looks at it curiously – who could possibly be calling him from… Colorado? – and dismisses it at first, but then his phone beeps, letting him know he’s got a message.

And suddenly he feels there is something very wrong.

\---

Derek paces in the waiting room, trying to get his mind to shut the fuck up or else he might have to punch something. But the scene keeps replaying itself over and over again in his head, and he wants to scream. 

They had been on their way to a suspect’s house, Hotch driving and Derek riding shot-gun, smirking as Reid babbled statistics in the back. Hotch had shot him an amused ‘behave!’ look as they had gotten out of the car, waiting for the PD to get into position, and Derek had put on his best innocent look. 

Then everything had gone to hell.

The shot had come out of nowhere before they had even taken one step toward the house, taking them all by surprise and catching Hotch above his vest. He had gone down so fast Derek had feared the worst, and then there had only been chaos and gunfire. When the all clear had finally come, the unsub dead or dying – it’s not like he cared – Derek had found himself on his knees next to Hotch, watching Reid try to stop the bleeding and screaming for an ambulance.

 

Derek stares at his hands – and shit, he’s still got blood on them. God damn it, he must have washed them at least three times since the doctors whisked Hotch off to surgery, grim-faced, and it doesn’t take a genius to know that the odds aren’t looking good.

With a sigh he throws himself in the empty chair next to Reid who is looking a little lost in the surgical scrubs a nurse gave him and Derek wonders if he managed to get all the blood off his hands. And forces himself to stop obsessing about it. God, it’s like Garcia getting shot all over again, only worse because there is no shooter to catch this time and no Hotch to keep them together. So Derek tries to find something reassuring to say because Spencer sure looks like he could use it but his brain comes up with nothing. Jesus, he’s bad at this. Hotch was… _is_ the one who always keeps his head in situations like this.

“Did someone call Haley?” Prentiss suddenly asks from where she’s huddled with JJ, breaking a silence that’s been getting more and more oppressive as the minutes pass. JJ looks vaguely guilty for not having thought about it earlier, but Derek stops her before she can beat herself up.

“She moved out months ago,” he says abruptly, and they all turn to stare at him. Only Rossi doesn’t look surprised. In fact, he looks as unflappable as ever, and Derek wants to shake him until he shows some emotion.

“I still think we should call her,” Prentiss persists and she is probably right but Derek doesn’t care one way or another. Calling Haley isn’t going to help Hotch make it through surgery. Isn’t going to do _anything_.

Fuck it. He has to do _something_ or he is going to go crazy.

He stands up abruptly, the sudden movement making the others jump.

“I’m calling Gideon,” he says decisively and stalks off to find a payphone. He isn’t even sure Gideon kept his cell but at least that way he’ll feel like he is doing something useful instead of just sitting there.

 

Even after five months Gideon’s number is as familiar as ever and his fingers press the numbers automatically, a little clumsily. He keeps getting distracted by flecks of blood under his fingernails – he really needs to wash his hands again – and it’s almost a surprise to hear the ringing tone in his ear. Then the electronic voice is telling him to leave a message and he takes a deep breath.

“Gideon, it’s Morgan. Listen man…” There he has to pause and swallow past the lump in his throat before soldiering on, “It’s about Hotch. He’s been shot, and the doctors say it doesn’t look so good. He’s in surgery right now, but -” his voice breaks and he is the first surprised, “- you know,” he finishes awkwardly. “Anyway, thought you should know. If you want to come. I think you should come.” He pauses again before remembering he hasn’t even told him where they were and rattles off the information about the hospital before hanging up.

Then he slowly heads back towards the waiting room and joins the others in their silent vigil.

\---

The statistics running through Spencer’s head aren’t good, aren’t good at all but he can’t seem to turn his brain off. Neck wound, so many things that can go wrong. There is the carotid and the jugulars, all three of them, the trachea and the oesophagus, and so many nerves and he really has to stop thinking about it.

No, he has to stay positive. Hotch won’t die. Actually, Hotch _can’t_ die. He just can’t. Because Gideon’s gone, _Elle_ ’s gone, Garcia was a close call, so Hotch can’t be gone too. It’s not statistically sound.

Morgan’s return jolts him out of his thoughts – thank God – and he peers at him expectantly. JJ has left to call Haley, but he privately agrees with Morgan. Gideon should be here too.

“So?” he asks anxiously when Morgan doesn’t say anything. “Did you talk to him?”

“I left a message.”

“Oh.” Spencer looks down, disappointed. He has to admit part of him was hoping that Gideon would materialize in the waiting room and fix everything, and now he just feels stupid.

“Hey.” Morgan’s hand on his shoulder makes him look up again. “He’ll come. Just got to give him some time to get here.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Reid nods and Morgan pats his shoulder before settling back next to him.

They wait.

\---

It’s another three hours before the doctors come back to tell them Hotch made it through the surgery. He isn’t out of the woods yet, by far – Dave should know – but he is better than he was three hours ago and that’s already something. And no, they can’t see him right now, he is in recovery but they’ll let them know once they’ve moved him to the ICU. 

There are smiles in his coworkers’ faces for the first time since they got here and they all start talking at once, full of reassurances and boosts of confidence. They turn to each other for comfort, leaving him out, and Dave can’t help but feel excluded – his own fault, he knows.

So he hangs back, and watches them.

That means he is the first to spot Gideon walking through the door, a not so concealed terrified look on his face that melts away when he sees the looks on his former colleagues’ faces. A smoother expression takes its place and Dave raises a surprised eyebrow – he had thought _that_ particular thing would have gone away with time.

“How is he?” are the first words out of Jason’s mouth and the rest of the team crowds around him, telling him the latest news on Hotch before asking Gideon where he’s been.

All they get is a weak “I was in the neighbourhood” before Gideon redirects the conversation towards Hotch and “What happened?”

That’s when he spots Dave, leaning against the wall, and he actually looks surprised to see him. Strange – he had thought he and Hotch kept in touch. But clearly not, or Hotch would have told him about his return to the BAU.

It makes no sense at all.

But questions will have to wait ‘til they’re alone – Dave is pretty sure there are things Jason would rather keep from the others. So he sits back down, and lets his mind wander.

 

He remembers the first time he met Hotch. The field office in Seattle had requested the BAU’s assistance on a case and he had been the one to go. He had come back with Hotch in tow, quite pleased with himself – it was obvious the young man was made for the job – and assigned him to work with Gideon so that he could learn the ropes.

Looking back, he still doesn’t know whether that was one of his best or of his worst ideas.

It had taken all of one case for the two men to get used to one another, and not much longer for Hotch to get under Gideon’s skin. Dave had never quite understood it – them. The way they had just clicked, equals and friends where Dave had only meant for mentor and student. They had had the making of a great team, possibly the best, but something had made Rossi uneasy.

He had only understood what when he had noticed the light in Jason’s eyes whenever they landed on Hotch. Throughout the next year he had watched them closely, watched that light lose some of its brightness, growing softer and more subtle, as what Dave had hoped was just a passing infatuation turned into something deeper.

He had to hand it to Gideon though – it soon got to the point where it could easily be mistaken for affection, but Dave had known better.

It had been none of his business back then – Hotch was happily married and nothing was going to happen – and it had been too late anyway, the damage done. Gideon had been in love with Hotch and Hotch… well Hotch had loved his wife.

Dave had retired soon afterwards and now, more than ten years later, he can’t help but wonder what the hell happened during all those years.

\---

Gideon manages to convince Morgan to take the girls and Reid back to the hotel, promising to call if there is any change. JJ has to go and pick up Haley at the airport in six hours anyway – they might as well get a little sleep.

Morgan gives him a pointed look that he can’t quite read as they leave, and Gideon wonders if he is losing his touch. So he chooses to ignore Dave, who shows no sign of wanting to leave just yet, sitting down heavily and focusing on what matters. Hotch is doing good. The surgery went well. He is young and fit, there is no reason to believe anything will go wrong. Everything will be fine. Now he just needs to see him.

To be quite honest, Gideon isn’t quite used to being so optimistic. He’s always been something of a realist, what with his job and all. But lately he’s found himself hoping again and it’s being put to the test right now.

He can feel Dave’s eyes on him and he knows he can’t ignore him forever. Dave knows him – maybe not as well as Hotch does, but enough to see right through him. Especially now, when his game face is off.

Might as well face the music.

“How is he doing? Really.”

“Good so far. The surgery went well, they told you that. The doctors’ biggest concern right now is whether the low blood flow to his brain before they got to him will have done any lasting damage. But they’re optimistic.”

“Good, good.”

Silence and then,

“So you’re back.” It’s not a question but Dave nods anyway.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know.”

“What makes you think I didn’t?” he asks reflexively, wincing inwardly at how weak that sounds, but for once Dave doesn’t call him on it.

“How have they been doing?” he changes the subject and this time Dave calls his bullshit.

“Alright I guess – considering. _He_ is working too much though. Nothing to stop him now.”

“What are you talking about?”

Dave gives him a hard look. “Haley walked out on him, Jason. From what I gathered, around the same time you walked out on him. Not that he is talking about either – you know what he’s like.”

Oh yes, Gideon knows. 

He should have answered his phone. 

God damn it. 

 

An hour later – an hour Gideon’s spent berating himself – the doctors tell them they can see Hotch. They get directions to the ICU and Dave has the courtesy to wait outside as Gideon walks into Aaron’s room.

It’s not the first time a member of his team is wounded – God knows he handled it badly the last time. But it’s always a little worse when it’s Hotch. And this… this has to be the worst he’s ever seen him. Intubated, with a large compressive bandage on his neck and a couple of IV lines dripping blood and fluids back into him. The steady beeping of his monitor is a relief though, and Jason takes a step closer to the bed.

Aaron’s hair is shorter, he notices absently as he sits down next to him, his hand hovering a little before finding Hotch’s. He looks tired too, the circles under his eyes darker than they used to be. And suddenly Gideon’s vision blurs and he has to look away, away from Hotch and how pale he is, staring at the wall instead as he fights to get himself back under control.

“Hey Aaron,” he says after a couple of minutes, and if his voice sounds a little more watery than usual, well no one is going to notice. “It’s Jason. I’m here now.”

Which is too little too late, he knows, and he is about to go on another guilt trip when Dave slips into the room.

“Are you still in love with him?” Dave asks matter-of-factly, as if he was talking about the weather, and Gideon shoots him a disbelieving look.

“It’s really none of your business.”

“So you are.”

“Don’t profile me.” He hates it when people do that – especially when it’s _Dave_ , because it’s one thing to figure out something private about someone, and quite another to want to discuss the matter with them. Only Hotch can get away with it, and Dave knows that too – or at least he used to. But he never had any tact either so Gideon shouldn’t be so surprised.

“Did you ever cross the line?” Dave persists and Gideon has to look away.

Because they had. Once. He remembers the case that had hit Hotch hard and the motel room afterwards. Hotch sitting on the edge of his bed, head bent, and when Jason had squeezed his shoulder he had looked up, eyes vacant and hopeless. It was a look Gideon had never wanted to see on his face and something inside him had broken. He had pushed him back on the bed, and Hotch hadn’t resisted. In fact, he had clung to him and answered just as fiercely to his kisses. From that night Gideon remembers the feel of Aaron under him, the smell of his skin and the taste of his tears. He remembers the moans that had spilled from his mouth, each catalogued and filed in a part of his brain, and he remembers his face when he had come, a broken word on his lips that had sounded a lot like ‘Jason’.

Hotch had fallen asleep afterwards, but Gideon had kept watch. He had spent the night just looking at him, part of him knowing it was the only chance he would ever get. When light had come back into the sky he had gotten up and showered, and sat on the second bed, waiting for Hotch to wake up.

When he did there was no awkwardness. Hotch had stretched and nodded to Gideon’s inquiring “Okay?” He had kissed him then, a chaste, almost tender kiss that had been miles away from the desperate kisses of before. It had been both confirmation and thank you, and Gideon had smiled back at him, ignoring the painful thud of his heart.

They had gone back to Quantico, Hotch to his wife and Gideon to his empty apartment, and never mentioned it again. Not because either was ashamed – if anything the shared intimacy had brought them closer instead of driving them apart as Gideon had first feared – but because it had been about comfort, and nothing else.

The fact that it had meant so much more to Jason was his own problem, and he had vowed Hotch would never know. It was better that way. 

Dave must read all this on his face because he doesn’t ask any more questions and leaves him alone with Hotch. Gideon’s glad.

 

Hours later he wakes up with a start when someone taps on his shoulder, and turns to see JJ who has an apologetic look on her face. Haley is next to her, and he knows he’ll find a couple of missed calls on his cell.

Oh well. Better get this over with. He smiles at JJ who quickly retreats from the room – Gideon can’t say he blames her – and turns back towards Haley.

“How is he doing?” she asks as she takes the seat on the other side of the bed.

“Good so far.”

She nods and gives a tiny smile. She looks tired and pretty and Gideon has to look away. It wouldn’t be fair to take his anger out on her. So he reins himself in and for a while they sit in companiable silence. The lack of animosity is strange, because the two of them have never quite seen eye to eye, each having a fairly different idea of what is best for Hotch – not that Gideon would ever have said anything. It hadn’t been his place – and he hadn’t exactly been impartial either.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

The question comes out of nowhere and Gideon is too busy gaping at her to answer. What is it with people today? First Dave, and now Hotch’s _wife_?

“It’s okay, you don’t have to answer. I kind of knew anyway. God, I was so jealous of you.” She laughed softly, her hand tightening on Hotch’s briefly. “He never talked about his job much, but he always talked about you. I remember thinking it was a good thing you were a man or I would have had to watch out. Turned out, it didn’t really matter, did it?”

Her laugh is slightly bitter this time.

“He loves you,” Gideon offers.

“But he loves you more. He chose you, after all.”

Gideon shakes his head. Haley had never quite understood Hotch’s commitment to his job, and that’s why their marriage was doomed to fail sooner or later. And now it seems she’s misunderstood their relationship as well – at least where Hotch is concerned. “I quit five months ago. I’ve been travelling.”

“Oh.”

She looks lost and Gideon knows just how she feels. He had left the BAU thinking Hotch would still have Haley, and she had left Hotch thinking he would still have Gideon. Turns out they were both wrong and Hotch is the one who paid for it.

They remain silent for a while until Haley stands up and heads for the door. She pauses in the doorway and says, without looking back,

“Take care of him for me, will you?” Her voice quivers but she forges on. “And make him happy. I tried, but I wasn’t very good at it in the end. And he deserves to be happy.”

Gideon opens his mouth to tell her it’s not like that, that Hotch doesn’t want that from him, but she’s already gone and he finds himself with a lot to think about.

\---

Two days later – two days that have seen the BAU team in and out of the hospital at odd hours much to the ICU nurses’ dismay, and Gideon camping in Hotch’s room when he wasn’t being dragged away to get some rest – the doctors declare Hotch stable enough to try and take him off the ventilator. They wean him of the drugs that were keeping him sedated and, when he shows signs of waking up – which, they assure them, is already a good sign –, shoo everyone out of the room.

\---

The first thing he is aware of is that he’s got something down his throat and that it hurts. For a moment he panics, one hand reaching out to pull the tube out, because what’s going on?! But someone’s there with him, holding his hand down and telling him to calm down, that he is in the hospital and that they’re going to take the tube out. He opens his eyes to confirm that but the light is too bright and it hurts so he closes his eyes again and tries to do as he is told and relax.

Which is kind of hard to do, considering he’s got a _tube_ down his _throat_.

But then they take it out and Aaron is coughing and wheezing, trying to catch his breath as they put an oxygen mask on his face. His throat is raw and he doesn’t feel so good, his brain sluggish and insisting he should just go back to sleep. But not yet, the doctors insist. So he answers their questions – whispers is more like it, and even that hurts too – and moves his arms and legs when they ask him to. He even manages to ask a question of his own, and when he’s told everyone on the team is fine, he lets go and drifts back to sleep.

\---

Jason doesn’t have to be a former BAU agent to know that the doctors are bringing good news when they step out of the room. Hotch is breathing on his own, they say, and there is no sign of brain damage. He is sleeping now and should be just fine, barring unforeseen complications.

He closes his eyes, relief washing over him and almost dizzy with it. All around him there are expressions of relief and joy but he can’t bring himself to be part of it just yet. So he slips back into Hotch’s room and quietly breaks down.

Hotch is going to be fine. He will go back to work, and Jason will go back to his soul-searching journey, and he will lose him all over again. 

Except, he’s come to realize, he doesn’t have to.

Oh, he’s not ready to go back to the BAU – maybe he’ll never be. But that doesn’t mean he can’t go back to DC. His feelings aside, he’s missed Hotch. Missed his friend. Missed Spencer and the rest of the team too, more than he would have thought, and the truth is, he is tired of being alone among strangers. So he’ll go back to DC and see how things go from there.

And maybe, in a few months when the divorce isn’t so fresh in their minds, he’ll talk to Aaron about the two of them. Haley’s words have given him hope, and that’s something he hasn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time where Hotch is concerned.

He can wait. 

So he pieces himself back together and settles down to do just that.

\---

Later that day Aaron opens his eyes and finds Jason fast asleep on the chair next to his bed. He doesn’t look very comfortable, Aaron decides, and he’s about to wake him up to send him back to his hotel for some proper rest when it hits him. Jason is here. _Jason_ is here.

Relief surges through him and he finds himself fighting back tears – which he will blame on the drugs if anyone asks – because Jason is _here_. Some part of him had honestly thought he would never see him again, and that had been more terrifying than Haley leaving him. All those months not knowing where he was or if he was okay had taken their toll and been a real eye-opener. But there had been no use thinking about it then – it only hurt more – and so Aaron had ignored it. 

Except now Jason is here again. And Aaron isn’t going to let him go back to wherever he was without a fight this time. Hell, maybe he should have gotten himself shot earlier if that’s what it took to get Jason to see him, he thinks absent-mindedly, and winces as he tries to move.

Or maybe not.

He must have made a sound because Jason startles awake, blinking sleep out of his eyes.

Their eyes meet and hold.

And Aaron knows they’re going to be just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at my livejournal.


End file.
